Blind Trust
by SwitzDandelion
Summary: "You know, Merlin, you're the one Arthur should knight. You're the bravest of us all and he doesn't even know it." AU 3x13; Arthur happens to overhear part of a whispered conversation between one of his most loyal knights and his manservant. Arthur POV. Reveal fic. No slash. T for occasional language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! So this is my first fic, how exciting! I wrote this a few weeks ago and spent a lot of time since then considering publishing it, only to continually beat myself with uncertainties and fears. But I finally made myself do it, so I hope it gets some reviews before I spiral downwards in worry that it's actually pretty bad. I couldn't find a way to actually insert Author's Notes, so I assume you're just supposed to type it in with the text, which is what I'm doing... if anyone can correct me, feel free. And I'm sorry about the cliche title, but I could not for the life of me think of anything better. Anyway, I hope everything works out alright and I hit all the right buttons to get this out there. Please read and tell me what you think, good or bad!**

**Oh, and did any of you see the finale? *GASP* Not to give any spoilers, but I can't believe they ended it like that! Augh! How could they? And everyone who died... I really hope they actually make movies, although it's unlikely they will.**

**Disclaimer: C****ontrary to popular belief, ****I do not own Merlin.**

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Blind Trust

Chapter 1

For what seemed like the first time in nearly a week, it was finally quiet.

Of course, over the last week during which Morgana held the throne, there had been little talking within their small group, so naturally there was a general lack of noise. Between the sneaking around in the forest and hiding from patrols, added to the tension and depression that was almost tangible around them, it had been a terse, near silent period of time, devoid of nearly any talking besides the necessary. Only Merlin seemed to have been attempting to be cheerful; Arthur had been downright moody and lacking of enthusiasm in anything. The betrayal had hit him quite hard, and, to put it lightly, he had been finding it hard to see the use in any rebellion or retaliation against an army of immortal soldiers, led by his own half-sister.

Yet only now, as he settled into his bedroll and listened, did he realize how noisy and confusing it had been in his head; his constant questions with no answers and endless circles of thought had been giving him quite the headache. But now it was finally and utterly quiet. Since the moment they all sat down around the Round Table, something inside Arthur shifted just a tiny bit. He finally opened his eyes again to the world and paused in his depression long enough to see the other side of the situation; he had nearly all of his most trusted knights and friends with him, waiting quietly in respect for whatever orders he may give them, all willing to do anything for him. As one by one they had stood up and declared their undying loyalty to him and his cause, he finally found something within himself that he never thought he would be able to find.

Hope.

Just a tiny spark, but as they agreed to fight and formulate a plan, he had felt that tiny spark begin to grow as though it were an ember having fresh air blown onto it, slowing gaining confidence and enthusiasm. He was so overcome with the loyalty handed to him by these respectable men, he could think of only one way to even begin to repay them. And that he did, knighting each of the swordsmen despite the many ancient rules he knew he was probably breaking. And they all seemed very proud and honoured, strengthening his belief in the choice.

So it was now as he lay there, finally beginning to wonder if they might just have a chance at succeeding, that he felt the beginnings of drowsiness creep in; he realized only now that he had been unable to sleep properly the last few days. He embraced the heaviness of his eyes and only prolonged the moment before the darkness overtook him completely so as to enjoy the light, peaceful feeling a moment longer; it was just as he was on the verge of falling asleep that he realized there were hushed whispers nearby. Despite his desire to rest peacefully, his curiosity would not allow him to ignore the voices completely, and he found himself straining to hear the quiet murmurings that carried slightly from across the room.

"You're a knight. At last."

"But for how long?"

The first voice he knew easily-he should be able to recognize Merlin's voice anywhere, having been awakened to it nearly every morning and listening to his sarcasm and back talk every day for the past... well, number of years. And the second could only belong to Lancelot, who spoke with that certain tone of voice that sounded confident yet soft.

Merlin murmured something in response before the two fell silent, lost in their own grim thoughts.

"What are you planning?" he heard Lancelot ask suddenly, with a quiet but serious voice. "And don't even think about lying; I know you too well."

As he waited for a reply, he wondered what-and _who-_-the man could possibly be referring to. One of the other knights must also be up; who could be 'planning' something on his own? And Lancelot mentioned knowing whoever it was too well. Who was that close to Lancelot? Why, half of the men in the group barely even knew Lancelot, and the only people who were that familiar with him were Percival, Gwen, Gaius, Arthur himself, and Merlin. It must be Percival; the large knight was the only man Arthur didn't know very well, and he was therefore not yet sure of his personality or intentions.

It was a moment or two before a quiet voice responded;

"It's too difficult to explain."

But that was Merlin's voice! Completely confused as to what the manservant could be talking about, he held as still as possible to better hear the hushed conversation.

"...You can tell me," Lancelot's voice drifted over toward Arthur.

Another small pause in which some rustling suggested that Merlin was checking to make sure the others were asleep. Arthur worked hard to control his breathing and act asleep while still trying to stay within earshot; it was getting difficult to hear, considering the two men were lowering their voices even further.

"Morgana has the Cup of Life," Merlin's whispered voice barely carried. "If I can find it and empty it of the blood within, then the army will be destroyed, and Morgana will be powerless."

Destroyed? The army would be destroyed? Just like that?

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Lancelot reminded him. "It's guarded by an immortal army."

Merlin's response was so quiet that Arthur missed it altogether and only heard a silent murmur; the next voice he heard was Lancelot's again, sounding concerned and slightly stern.

"It doesn't make you immortal."

"No."

Arthur cursed himself for missing whatever Merlin had said; he had lost what remaining part of the conversation made sense. After a lengthy pause, he had just been about to go back to sleep when he heard Lancelot's quiet voice once again, sounding as though he were in awe.

"You know, Merlin, you're the one Arthur should knight." At this, Merlin snorted, but Lancelot continued. "You're the bravest of us all and he doesn't even know it."

Arthur only had a moment in which to wonder the implications of that statement before Merlin responded in a voice that sounded both grim and sad.

"He can't," the young man whispered, sounding older than his years. "Not yet. That's why I need to find a way to get to the Cup without Arthur knowing."

"Leave that to me," Lancelot assured him with resolve.

At this point Arthur heard more rustling as the men got comfortable and went to sleep; he, however, was now far from drowsy. His mind was going in circles thinking about what he just heard. He had no idea what was going on, and could not for the life of him figure out why Merlin had suddenly sounded so old, or why he and Lancelot seemed to be sneaking around together. What was it that Arthur couldn't know? And why not? These were men who had only just a few hours earlier pledged their complete and utter allegiance to him, claiming they trusted him completely; were those empty words?

There was also the matter of the Cup. This was incredible news; the army could be destroyed? It could turn the whole war to their favor! His mind had already begun trying to think of ways to reach it... But Arthur dragged himself back to his present confusion. If Merlin knew of this weakness in Morgana's plan and thought they could make use of it, why hadn't he told anyone? Oh, but of course, he had decided to tell Lancelot. Arthur tried not to allow a little jealousy to creep into his thoughts. He was immensely glad that Lancelot had come; the man was an incredibly noble person who was also skilled with a sword, and he was a useful ally, not to mention he saved their lives. Again. Yes, Arthur liked him and was glad to have him in this dark time... but to witness firsthand the intimate bond between him and Merlin, a trust that didn't completely reach Arthur... it brought back small pangs of hurt, and he could not prevent a brief image of Lancelot and Guinevere holding hands to pop up in his mind when he thought of the man. He knew it was silly, and he tried to convince himself there was nothing to be jealous of. Lancelot was allowed to be friends with Merlin or Gwen or anyone of his choosing. It made no difference to Arthur.

But putting aside his petty feelings, he tried yet again to focus back on the matter at hand. _What was going on_? So maybe Merlin had his reasons for keeping the information secret. Despite his general idiocy, he did have his moments of brilliance, rare as they were, so Arthur would at least wait to confront him about it. But why would the clumsy, weak boy ever attempt to do something as impossible as what he spoke of? The cup would be guarded heavily by immortal soldiers, hidden somewhere within the castle filled with more immortal soldiers, with Morgause and Morgana on the prowl... It would be near impossible, and of anyone who could possibly have any sort of chance, Merlin did not have good chances. He was clumsy as hell and barely strong enough to even swing a sword, and he was quite obviously recognizable to anyone in the castle, so how did he think he had any sort of chance at even getting in on his own, much less finding the cup or defeating an immortal army? He'd be caught and killed within five minutes of setting foot in the citadel. Yet Lancelot, who Arthur knew to have a rational mind and high set of morals, was fine with this plan; why, he was offering to help! He only seemed mildly concerned for the raven-haired boy. He had said... what was it he had said? In his bewildered state, Arthur almost couldn't remember.

"You know, Merlin, you're the one Arthur should knight. You're the bravest of us all and he doesn't even know it."

Lancelot's words suddenly rang out in his head. He pondered on that statement; the bravest of us all. He was about to scoff at it-everyone knew Merlin was the one who hid behind trees during fights-when he stopped and realized it was true. He had just heard Merlin admit he was going to attempt the impossible, win the war single-handedly without even telling anyone, despite the non-existent chance of survival. He didn't even want Arthur or anyone else to know; he wasn't doing this for credit or to impress anyone, and if he died tomorrow, Arthur would go on believing him a cowardly weakling. But that wasn't true; Arthur knew he was brave. He had seen the stubbornness with which the boy refused to stay home during quests and his willingness to risk his own life for Arthur's. Yet this was something else completely. He was practically sealing his own fate for the small chance that he could succeed and save everyone. That merely made him brave; what made him the bravest of them all was that he refused to be acknowledged, refused to let anyone know what he was about to do, why they may never see him again. He seemed to have some crazy idea that Arthur _couldn't_ know about this other side of him, and for whatever reason, he was convinced that it was for the best that he hold his silence.

Well, Arthur would be having none of it! After what he had heard, how could he possibly just pretend that nothing had happened and allow the servant to completely risk his life? It was impractical, it was outrageous, it was... it was...

Arthur stopped. What could he do? There was still so much about Merlin that he was completely oblivious to, as was proved by the conversation he heard tonight. While it wasn't that unusual that Merlin knew quite a bit about magical artifacts-he was Gaius's ward, after all-Arthur still had no idea why he hadn't seen fit to tell anyone else about the Cup, or why he planned to go off on his own into danger, or what advantage he thought he had... What gave him such confidence that Lancelot had had to remind him that he wasn't immortal? Why was Lancelot willing to help him on this suicide mission? How the hell did Merlin think he could even come close to achieving his task? Arthur was forced to admit that he actually knew next to nothing about the situation-or even about Merlin himself-and he couldn't just barge in and demand an explanation, and Merlin would probably just deny anything he said, so there wasn't much point anyway. He realized he might just have to blindly trust the boy and let him do whatever he wanted; At least he would have Lancelot looking after him. Arthur finally allowed himself to drift to sleep, wondering what the next day would hold for them all.

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**A/N: You're still here? Seriously? Wow, so maybe it wasn't actually that bad. Thanks for reading, and I hope you actually enjoyed it... ****What do you think? Should I continue? ****Please give any feedback you can in any way, shape, or form. Feel free to be super critical as long as it's not just plain mean or rude. Thanks!**

**- SwitzD**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Eugh, finally. Here I was, having posted chapter one and thinking, 'Oh, I'll just write another chapter and post it within a week. Easy peesy lemon squeezy.' How pathetically naive I was... **

**But after having timidly published chapter one last month only to get astoundingly positive reviews and compliments and urges to continue... Well, I smiled. And I don't mean that I gave myself a small smile before going back to daily life, I mean I was grinning like mad. All day. For two or three days straight. And I was literally checking my inbox continually (maybe three times an hour), and every time I got another review, I immediately went and texted my friend ggglock, excitedly telling her, 'Guess what? I GOT ANOTHER REVIEW!" I think she got a little exasperated with me, but I felt like I was on a high all day. **

**So thank you to every single person who reviewed, favorited, followed, or even ****_read_****it in general. Y'all made my day. I was frankly astounded to see that there are people in so many countries, like Malaysia, Slovakia, Finland, Lebanon, and... gasp... Switzerland! (Relating to my username, my father is 100% Swiss-making me 50%-and I've used Switz as a nickname of sorts for myself ever since I visited the country as a child.) So thank you to Amy, Valkyriexx, WishIwasthere, history101, TheBetrayalKnowsMyName, and everyone else for your awesome reviews!**

**And to my good friend, ggglock, possibly my sole friend who reads Merlin fanfiction with me. We share favorite fics, compare preferences, and she supported me in my timid endeavor to publish... so thank you, ggglock, I really value your friendship.**

**I will stop rambling. Read and enjoy. Well, I hope you enjoy, but I can't force you to... Augh, just continue.**

**DISCLAIMER: Tragically, I am not the owner of Merlin... yet.**

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Blind Trust

Chapter 2

"Up and at 'em, sire!"

Arthur groaned and sat up, blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes. He had never taken too well to being woken up early, especially when Merlin was so damn cheery and energetic about it. He was about to throw an insult back at the obnoxious boy when the events of last night suddenly came crashing down on him. He instead ended up staring at Merlin a bit oddly, which luckily passed unnoticed by the servant who had gone to wake the others. Watching Merlin go around playfully shoving and kicking some of the men awake, Arthur thought back to the grim, determined voice he had heard coming from the very same boy who was now ripping a blanket off a grumpy Gwaine. Shaking his head slightly, he considered whether he had simply imagined it all... It seemed unreal now as he watched the goofy antics.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" He turned his head sharply to find Lancelot looking at him.

"Yes, of course," he said, realizing he must have still been staring thoughtfully at the others. Lancelot gave him one last curious look before turning away and going to talk to Gaius. Arthur watched him go, his thoughts briefly running back to what the knight had said last night, before also getting up and stretching. They needed to get going; there was much to do and little time to do it.

After sharing what was left of the previous night's supper, the men (and woman) all gathered again at the round table to plan. Arthur quickly fell into his business-like attitude, doing most of the organizing and detailing of where they needed to go and how they were going to sneak in.

"There is a tunnel under the northern ramparts that brings us only a few paces from the entrance to the dungeons," he told them. "It will be well guarded, so if we're going to break everyone out, we must remain unobserved. We cannot let them raise the alarm."

"We need to take out the warning bell," Lancelot spoke up in agreement. "That way the warriors have no means of communication."

Arthur, having also come to this conclusion, nodded; he looked at Lancelot, who also nodded back, and he knew he had a volunteer. "Good idea," he said, his mind already moving on to he next task, when Lancelot suddenly spoke up again.

"I'll need someone with me who knows the castle." Before the prince could even reply, Merlin piped up from his seat next to Arthur.

"I'll go."

Arthur briefly froze, suddenly realizing how Lancelot had just set up the perfect opportunity for Merlin and he to go off on their own. It was so smooth and immediate, that Arthur never would have noticed anything amiss had it not been for him overhearing Lancelot's promise the previous night. He saw the brief look that was passed between the two, but only because he was looking for it; yet again he had an urge to confront them, but he still stood by his decision not to meddle, so without missing a beat, he agreed, acting as though everything was completely normal.

"Alright," he said, and with that he moved on to other matters. He glanced briefly at Merlin just in time to see him share a look with Lancelot, one that was brief yet full of meaning, before the moment passed and they both looked away. Throughout the rest of the planning, Arthur found himself continually glancing back at Merlin and Lancelot as though expecting some other sign of their secret conspiracy to show, but the two simply took part normally in the rest of the meeting and gave no further indications that anything was going on.

Arthur finally decided that the group had covered every possible area of the plan multiple times, so he dismissed everyone and they went to prepare weapons and supplies. Arthur, meanwhile, had gone back to brooding over Merlin. He still didn't understand why the idiot was being so self-sacrificing or so damn mysterious; why couldn't he just at least tell anyone where he was going? Why didn't he want to tell Arthur what he was doing? It was boggling, making his head go round in circles just wondering about it, so when he noticed Guinevere wandering over, he went to talk with her to escape the growing headache he was getting.

A few minutes later, a smiling Arthur watched as his beloved Gwen went off to continue preparing. She had just praised him highly, saying she was proud of him and she had seen the king he would become; he was beaming with gratitude and happiness, watching her go off to find supplies for making bandages as he had asked her to, when he noticed her stop to talk to Gaius. That was understandable as she was to prepare bandages and medical supplies, but as he watched her turn to go, he saw Gaius walk over to where Merlin was sorting through a pile of materials found in the castle. Immediately re-interested in Merlin's secret mission, he casually walked over to a pile of swords a bit behind the two men, who had thankfully not noticed him. As he turned slightly in hopes of picking up the conversation, he heard Gaius warning his ward to be careful.

"I've got the easy bit," Merlin said sounding cheerful. "The warning bell is nothing compared to the cells."

"I overheard you, Merlin," Gaius informed him sternly. Arthur realized he must not have been the only one eavesdropping the previous night. "If Morgause catches you, she'll kill you."

Merlin was silent for a minute, his cheery attitude having disappeared immediately, before he finally responded.

"I have no choice."

Gaius seemed to watch his ward silently for a few minutes before speaking up.

"I remember the bumbling idiot that came charging into my chambers all those years ago... Who would believe?"

Merlin turned to look at his mentor with a small smile on his face, before gathering a small pile of useful things he had found and walking back over to the others. Gaius too walked off, leaving Arthur to think over what he had just heard. Yet again, Merlin had demonstrated his incredible bravery, yet also his ability to hide it and play an easy-going fool. It baffled Arthur why Merlin thought himself above the ability of the knights; he was just a gangly servant with little skill in swordplay or fighting! But then Arthur was forced to remind himself that he did not seem to know as much about his faithful manservant as he had thought he did, and the boy's hidden bravery was just one example. What Lancelot had said was true; he was the bravest of them all by far, yet he chose to be so in secret. Arthur was coming to wonder how much he actually knew of his manservant at all.

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It was not long before they set out for the city, moving quietly through the forest with little talking or socializing; considering what they were about to attempt, each man seemed content to walk in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Once or twice, they came dangerously close to being found by some of Morgause's men, and it was only the knights' sharp hearing and reflexes that managed to keep them hidden. They only stopped once to refill their water skins before continuing; they reached the castle fairly quickly and hung back among the trees to avoid the guards posted along the high wall. Once the guards turned and moved away, Arthur made a quick motion with his hand and they hurried forward, dashing across the open terrain as fast as possible before they reached the hidden entrance to the tunnel.

Arthur stopped at the entrance to let the others all enter ahead of him, nodding to each as they rushed in one by one. When Merlin went last, he had a brief, bizarre urge to stop the boy and tell him to go back; knowing what he was planning, Arthur was suddenly noticing again just how vulnerable the servant was. He had no armor, no disguise, and little means to protect himself, other than the sword tied at his waist and Lancelot's help. But it was too late to do anything now, so Arthur quickly put aside his protective feelings and followed Merlin into the cave, covering the opening behind them. He made his way back to the front and led the men through the dark tunnel until they came to a wooden door at the end. He carefully opened it a crack, peering out for anyone nearby, but it was as he expected; no one was in this section of the castle at this hour, leaving the coast clear for the renegade knights to slip into the corridor unnoticed. The men unsheathed their swords and moved forward warily, listening for any signs of enemy soldiers.

When they reached the staircase leading to the upper levels of the castle, Merlin and Lancelot broke off from the group. They briefly exchanged hushed whispers of encouragement with the others, wishing each other luck, and Arthur moved forward to grip Merlin by the arm and nod at him, horribly aware that he may never see the boy again. Yet Merlin just nodded back and smiled at him, barely a trace of fear visible in his determined, serious expression. He and Lancelot turned to go, when Arthur caught sight of the servant's sword.

Arthur knew that Merlin wasn't stupid enough to go without a sword despite his lack of skill with one, but when he saw up close the weapon that Merlin had tied to his waist, he was surprised. It was beautifully crafted, with gold inlaid on the top half and an elegant hilt, and not at all what one would expect to find abandoned in an old castle. He almost swore he felt an instinctual pull towards it; something about it seemed to attract him, and he found himself imagining its perfectly balanced weight in his own hand, somehow feeling sure it would suit him personally. It was incredibly odd, that a simple sword would have this effect on him, and he wondered how the boy had gotten hold of it in the first place... As Merlin continued up the stairs, however, Arthur broke out of his trance and reprimanded himself. This was most certainly not the time to be puzzling over the mysterious manservant and any special swords he may or may not have attained under questionable circumstances. They were in the middle of breaking into an enemy castle, for heaven's sake; he couldn't afford to be distracted when all their lives-and the welfare of the kingdom-hung in the balance. He shook his head and motioned to his men to continue towards the door that would lead them to the dungeons.

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"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!"

Arthur yelled it as loudly as he could, putting all his frustration, determination, and fury into the words, igniting similar yells from his fellow knights. He had all but given up hope of possibly succeeding; his father was quite the worse for the wear and in no shape to escape or fend for himself, and anyway, there was a whole army of immortal soldiers in between the small group and their only means of escape. Arthur could not possibly see how they would manage to get out of this one, so all he could do was fight honorably to the end.

When he had heard the warning bells start ringing earlier, alerting every single person in Camelot of their escapade, he had had a brief moment of panic, wondering what had happened to Merlin and Lancelot, before he remembered that they had their own agenda. He cursed, realizing his mistake in not actually having the bells taken care of, and merely fought harder against his current opponent, fueled by rage and adrenaline. As he continued fighting, however, and his mind became partly detached from the automatic slashes and blocks of his sword, his thoughts drifted to the servant and knight. Where were they? Were they even still alive? He hoped that at least by having most of the attention down here in the dungeons, the two would be able to slip through the castle with few problems. But when said castle is guarded by immortal soldiers, all it would take is for one guard to catch sight of them, and it would be all over. Arthur suddenly realized just how dangerous it was for Merlin and Lancelot, and wanted to punch something for being stupid enough to let them go and not to have intervened. They were going after the cup, which would undoubtedly be guarded by a score of guards, and what chance did the two have of ever even reaching the cup? How would they even know where to _find_it? It wasn't just dangerous, it was a suicide mission.

And so it came that Arthur had given up all hope but refused to back down anyway. Merlin and Lancelot were probably already dead, and Arthur and his men were beginning to weaken and fall while the opposing soldiers were tirelessly beating down upon them. When Arthur yelled that they would go down fighting, the remaining knights of Camelot all yelled at their opponents and fought harder. They had all come to a silent agreement that they would die and die honorably, fighting for their true monarch and their beloved kingdom. They were ready to give up their lives.

That was, until the soldiers all blew up simultaneously.

They all froze, completely stunned. No one moved for a moment; they just stared at where the soldiers had been just a moment before, mouths gaping and unwillingly to believe their luck. But as it became apparent that the enemy was no more, they began whooping and clapping each other on the back, giddy with relief that they had (somehow) succeeded despite all odds. Arthur also felt like laughing in stunned relief, but not completely for the same reasons as his men; for the prince, this must mean that Merlin and Lancelot were alive.

They were _alive_.

It was just as Merlin had described; the army had been destroyed, just like that, reduced to ash and dust. It meant that someone had emptied the cup of its blood, and Arthur couldn't see how it could be anyone else. He felt like dancing, but seeing as he was the prince and the leader of his men, he just smiled and went to help Uther.

"You're safe now, father," he told the unresponsive man, feeling a pang to see him like this, so vulnerable and weak. His father looked up at him with his eyes full of sorrow and pain, and Arthur felt his giddy mood dampen, though not enough to snuff out the relief for his servant and his remaining men. Looking back, he assessed the situation; a larger number of knights than he had thought lay dead or wounded, many having been weak from their stay in the dungeons. Among the few remaining were the men who had sat with him at the round table; he smiled as he saw Percival inspecting Elyan's wound and Leon checking for survivors among the fallen knights. Then Arthur stopped and frowned, looking around. Who from the round table was missing? In the wake of the battle, it took him a minute to think, before it hit him. He called over to the two nearest to him.

"Elyan, Percival, have you seen Gwaine?"

Elyan's eyes widened as he looked around, and Arthur began assuming the worst. He looked over the bodies of fallen knights, but they all had red capes.

"Gwaine?" He heard Elyan call, voice wavering. "You still alive?"

A moment later, they heard a shuffle and a groan. Arthur spun to see the dark-haired knight stumble out of a side passageway, mumbling.

"What do you think? And that's _sir_Gwaine to you."

Relieved, they all chuckled a bit at his response, before Arthur clapped him on the back and went to help Leon.

As he went around, he began to wonder what was taking Merlin and Lancelot so long. It was over; the army was destroyed, just like Merlin had set out to do. So where were they? What if Morgana or Morgause had caught up with them? The sisters must be in a rage. Thoughts of injuries and angry witches swirled in his mind, but he shoved them aside, assuring himself that it was over and they were all fine. It was over, he kept telling himself, they had won. The fighting was over.

Then an unearthly scream echoed from somewhere above and the ceiling began to shake.

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**A/N: Phew, I finished. Who doesn't love a good ole' cliffhanger, eh? *dodges flying fruit* Although it's not much of a cliffhanger, since you all know what happens in the episode and this fic is pretty canon so far... But what do you think? Too wordy? Too many semi-colons? Too canon? Too boring? (Why are these all 'too' something?) I plan to stray a bit farther off the path of canon in the following chapters, but we'll see how it goes. So review if you feel like it, and thanks for reading! Oh, and if you happen to have a spare second in your incredibly busy life (if you're reading fanfiction, then you're probably procrastinating anyway), go check out the poll on my profile page! Warning: It may contain small spoilers for season 5, so if you're behind on the show, be warned.**

**Virtual socks to everyone! Because as a great man once said, "One can never have enough socks." And they'll be nice, thick, warm ones if you immediately recognize the quote! Thanks to all!**

**- SwitzD**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been taking me longer to update, but I find my inspiration waning now that I'm leaving the safety of canon. But today's my birthday, and I thought, why should I leave my devoted readers to suffer even longer while I have a day of joy and happiness? Mind you, I still can't really believe I actually HAVE devoted readers, or that you people are actually eager for me to update... It really floats my boat, knowing that my fic is doing so much better than I ever imagined it would! And you know what really makes my day more than anything else? REVIEWS! (That's some shamelessly un-subtle hinting there...)**

**In the meantime, I'd like to use this opportunity to congratulate my friend **Elowan Bree** on posting her first fic! I'm so glad that I managed to drag one of my best friends into FanFiction with me, even if she's writing Doctor Who rather than Merlin... And even if her writing is possibly better than mine... And she has a more original plot... And it's really good... Maybe I shouldn't have dragged her down with me. Well, it's too late now, so way to go, El! (You guys should read her profile; it's hilarious.)**

**And now, without further ado, I shall bestow upon you my glorious writing!**

**DISCLAIMER: I hereby disclaim any ownership of Merlin.**

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Blind Trust

Chapter 3

Arthur's head snapped up, seeing dust fall from the ceiling as the screaming and crashes continued. All the knights exchanged shocked looks, before Arthur jumped up, the others following his lead. He sprinted up the stairs and into the corridor, pausing to listen for the source of the commotion. He began running in the direction of the sound, and it was not until he turned another corner that he realized it was coming from the throne room. He sprinted through the open doors, only to freeze; he seemed to take in the scene playing out before his eyes instantly as though time slowed down.

Morgana was on the floor in the center of the room, screaming terribly and making sounds that didn't even sound human; she was crying, hunched over a body that Arthur suddenly recognized as Morgause's. Morgana's eyes were gold as she screamed her heart out, which was probably what was causing the windows to shatter in and the roof to crumble and crash down. Turning his head, he saw Merlin, mysterious sword in hand, helping Lancelot from where he was sitting propped up against a pillar and leaning on his sword; he seemed injured, and Arthur rushed over to help, yelling Merlin's name.

"Arthur?" Merlin mouthed, looking up in surprise, but only long enough to register the blonde's presence before turning to help Lancelot again. Arthur rushed forward and pulled the knight's arm over his own shoulder, pulling him up and making his way towards the door; it was too chaotic, he couldn't see anything and rock was still falling everywhere. Realizing Merlin wasn't with him, he turned back, only to see him helping Gaius through the rubble. Where did Gaius come from? But as another chunk fell closer to them, he was forced to flee towards the door with Lancelot.

Once he was a ways down the hall, Arthur let go of Lancelot, allowing the knight to rest up against the wall, panting. Arthur turned to see Merlin, sword in hand, lead Gaius through the doors, slamming them closed behind him. He practically dragged the old man with him towards the other two, yelling at them to keep going. Arthur didn't need telling twice; he grabbed Lancelot again and lead him down the corridor as fast as he could with the handicapped knight. Merlin was slightly ahead, leading the way, and Arthur didn't question him as he led them up a few small staircases and down a few more corridors until they could barely hear the crashes and screams. He eventually led them into what turned out to be a spare guest room. Gaius sank wearily on the bed, out of breath; Arthur went and helped Lancelot sit down on a nearby chair, noting how pale the man was, before rounding on Merlin who was leaning against the wall, catching his breath.

"What the hell happened back there? First the army disappears off the face of the world, then Morgana started shrieking and destroying the throne room, and I come running up only to find you three there and Morgause lying on the floor looking dead. So what the hell happened? Why were y-_Merlin_!"

Arthur couldn't stop the yell that interrupted his tirade when the boy suddenly slid down the wall until he was on his knees. He rushed forward to help him up, noting for the first time the small line of blood on the side of his temple. He grabbed Merlin's dust-covered arm and helped him up, grabbing the other chair from behind him and moving it behind the boy. Merlin fell into it and leaned back, closing his eyes. Arthur got a closer look at him; he was breathing heavily and covered in stone dust like the rest of them, but his clothes looked crumpled on one side and he seemed to be curled in towards that side slightly. His temple, which still had a small trail of blood coming from beneath his black hair, also looked like it was forming a bruise, and he glanced at Merlin's face to see the boy's eyes wrinkled at the corners from the grimace on his face. Arthur, the fight completely gone out of him, felt slightly ashamed of his shouting when Merlin was in pain; he didn't know what to say.

"Merlin-"

"Can't it wait?" Merlin groaned out. "I'm having trouble thinking properly right now."

"Alright," Arthur sighed, not really wanting to interrogate the boy when he was obviously not in prime condition. "But you had better have a good explanation for this."

"Sire," Gaius spoke from his seat on the bed. Arthur turned to see him glancing worriedly at his ward, but he continued, "what of your father and knights?"

Arthur blinked at him for a second, then cursed.

"I have to go back," he said, grabbing his sword.

"I'll come," Lancelot ground out, attempting to stand, but they all stopped him and forced him to sit back down.

"Gaius can help you," Arthur told him, glancing at the physician for confirmation. "In the meantime, stay here; You're injured and you won't do anyone any good if you collapse on the way there."

With that, he threw one last worried look at Merlin, before nodding at Gaius and Lancelot and running out into the now eerily silent hallway.

* * *

Arthur paused and readjusted the knight's arm over his shoulder, making sure the man wasn't going to pass out, before continuing down the hall. He had spent the last half hour getting his father to his chambers; the king was weak and senseless and had a lost, defeated look in his eyes that had haunted the prince, but he tried to stay optimistic and cheer up his father as he got him to lie down in bed. After calling for a servant to come help the man change into clean clothes and get settled comfortably, Arthur had gone back to the dungeons to help clear up. So it was now that Arthur found himself leading an injured knight to where he had been told an infirmary had been set up by Gaius, in a large room not too far from the battle sight. Arthur pretended not to notice as the man stifled a gasp of pain, instead telling him that they were nearly there and then he could rest.

When they reached the room, Arthur found it filled with blankets serving as makeshift cots for the wounded; he quickly located an empty area and led the knight over, helping him get situated on the thin layer of cloth. With the knight settled, Arthur stood and surveyed the room; seeing Gaius tending to a man across the room, he made his way toward him.

"Gaius," he greeted. The elderly physician looked up and nodded in greeting, before looking back down at his patient.

"Sire. How is your father?"

Arthur sighed. "Not well, I'm afraid. He seemed a bit lost."

"He's probably gone into shock," Gaius told him. "I'll see to him when I've finished with the more life-threatening wounds."

Arthur nodded, looking around the quickly-filling room before he thought of something. "I thought you were going to stay at the other castle. Why did you come?" He paused as another thought struck him. "What about Guinevere?"

"She's still at the castle, I believe. I'm afraid I didn't tell her I was leaving."

Arthur stared at Gaius in surprise, before recovering his wits. "I must send someone to fetch her, she's probably terrified. Gwaine!"

He saw the man in question, standing a few beds away, turn upon hearing his name. When he saw Arthur, he came over to see what the blonde wanted.

"Is that any way to treat an important knight of the noblest army in the land?" Gwaine joked.

Arthur ignored him. "I need some men to go back and fetch Guinevere. Go and find whoever we can spare and set out immediately."

Gwaine winked and left, calling out to Elyan who had just gone out through the main doors. Arthur sighed and turned back to Gaius; he hesitated before leaning a bit closer to the old man.

"Gaius... How is Merlin?"

The physician glanced up at his face for a second, expression unreadable, before replying casually, "Why don't you ask him yourself when he comes back? He's fetching supplies from my chambers."

Arthur let out a small breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "So he's alright? He looked like he was about to collapse before."

"He's fine. Possibly a slight concussion, but he's perfectly fine, just took a small blow to the head."

Gaius didn't say anything else, and Arthur thanked him and walked away. He began walking between the beds, murmuring thanks and reassurances at the various knights he passed. To them, it would seem that he was checking up on his men, but in truth he was thinking.

Between worrying about his father and trying to get things under control, Arthur hadn't had much time to dwell on the events that occurred in the throne room. He had shied away from that train of thought, instead turning his attention to the tasks directly in front of him. But now, as he strode wandered between the beds, he finally had time to _think_.

He could not for the life of him imagine what had happened in the throne room, or how it had ended in such a way. He tried to come up with ideas, even crazy theories, _anything_, but it amounted to naught; anything he came up with was ludicrous or completely impossible, and nothing realistic fit with every detail of the aftermath. He was giving himself a headache just thinking about it, and he still hadn't gotten anywhere. Eventually, with a sigh, he turned and strode out of the infirmary, heading for his chambers to rest for a while.

As he was walking down the hall outside the room, still pondering on the day's events, he heard footsteps coming towards the corner in front of him, accompanied by soft voices a second later. It was a moment before one of the voices caught Arthur's attention, dragging him back to his surroundings, and his eyes widened minutely as he realized who it was. He would recognize Merlin's voice anywhere, familiar as it was. For a second, Arthur considered confronting him here and now, demanding answers or an explanation, or at least a promise of a talk to come. But he didn't know what to do; panicking as Merlin and his companion were just coming around the corner, he looked around quickly and spied an alcove just to his right. He made a quick run for it, immersing himself in darkness just as a black-haired head turned the corner.

From his position, Arthur saw Merlin stop in the middle of the hall with another servant whose name Arthur did not know. He was carrying bags with what must have been the supplies for Gaius. Arthur heard him call out a cheerful "Thanks!" To the other servant before they parted and went opposite ways, the other boy towards the kitchens while Merlin continued down the hall that Arthur himself was concealed in. Arthur watched as his manservant's grin faded once out of sight of the other boy; thinking he was alone, his shoulders seemed to droop slightly and he adopted a slightly weary look on his face, showing the fatigue he had hidden from everyone. When he paused to readjust his hold on the bags, he grimaced in pain and grabbed his shoulder unconsciously, but only hesitating for a split second before grabbing the bags again and continuing. As he turned another corner at the end of the hall, Arthur slid out from his hiding place, still looking after the boy. He stood there staring for a minute before turning and continuing in his own way down the hall, thinking back on how Merlin had looked as though his shoulder was bothering him. Gaius had said he was fine; had he been lying, or was Merlin just incredibly good at concealing his pain? He was keeping other secrets, after all, so who was to say he wasn't acting now?

Arthur was also questioning his own actions. Why had he hidden? He tried to convince himself that it was because he didn't want to distract him from his task of delivering supplies, when so many people were in need of them; it wasn't a good time to interrupt the boy. But, he argued with himself, surely he could just walk by; there was no need to hide just to avoid talking with his manservant. Surely he could have just walked by, or avoided interaction... He wanted to spy on him, that was it, he told himself. With all the secrets that Merlin seemed to be keeping, he wanted to see how the boy acted on his own, see what he was up to! But deep down, Arthur knew that his desire for information was not the true reason that he had ended up hiding himself away from his manservant.

He wasn't ready.

With everything that had happened, he was still confused, and a bit disturbed, even, by the idea that Merlin, his own manservant who he confided in with everything, who had provided support in his darkest times, who he almost considered a _friend_... His clumsy, goofy Merlin, who was supposed to be an open book, was a complete mystery to Arthur. Even after all these years and all the dangerous, crazy things they had gone through together, Arthur was forced to admit that he didn't seem to know the boy as well as he had thought. And it upset him. It truly almost disturbed him, and the fact that this was nearly as important to him right now as Morgana's betrayal or even the knowledge of her being a daughter of Uther-well, it said something about the boy, that his secrets were being ranked in priority with those of Arthur's own family. But they were still secrets, and Arthur still wanted to know what they were. While he had tried to confront Merlin after the battle, he had been full of adrenaline and shock, unable to consider matters or think. Now that he had really had time to dwell on matters, however, he realized just how cryptic and unknown his manservant really was. And it was due to this new insecurity in Arthur that he did not feel ready to meet the boy face to face, at least not yet. He still didn't know what to think about the whole ordeal. And so he had hidden. The prince of Camelot, hiding from his own manservant. It was ridiculous. Utterly pathetic, with no excuse. Completely un-princely. And yet... Arthur felt slightly relieved at having put off his confrontation, even if just for the moment. And he felt that, had he the chance to replay the situation, he would have done the exact same thing again.

Finally reaching his chambers, he found them to be in disarray, ripped apart with his things strewn about the room as though a madman had come through with the intention of leaving nothing untouched; and as he righted a tipped chair next to the table and sat down on it, he realized that such an explanation probably wasn't too far from reality.

Feeling rather overwhelmed, he placed his elbows on the table, lay his head in his hands, and simply rested, allowing his tortured, exhausted mind to finally succumb to the blissful numbness that accompanies fatigue.

* * *

**As ever, what did you think? I'll try to update soon, but I'm not really sure where this is going at the moment... I'm just taking it wherever it happens to take me, but, as you can already tell, it's no longer very canon. So another shout-out to Elowan Bree, and please review as usual! Thank you everyone! And since its my birthday, virtual cake slices to all!**

**- SwitzD**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, everyone; I finally watched Sherlock, and that was quite terribly distracting to the extreme and kept me from focusing on Merlin. Plus, now that I'm running out of canon scenes to use, I'm afraid that I am having more trouble deciding what should happen and where this is going. If only I had planned this out beforehand... then again, I never really foresaw it becoming a full reveal fic, so the blame can be shoved onto all you wonderfully pressuring people for demanding updates.**

**I am saving most of my AN for after the chapter. For now, enjoy the late and not very long chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: Do you see my name in the credits at the end of the show? No? Well, there you have it.**

* * *

Blind Trust

Chapter 4

Eventually there was a knock on the door, forcing Arthur to pick his head up and regain his bearings. He called wearily, "Enter," trying to compose himself to look more like the prince he was. The door opened part way and a guard stepped halfway in, bowing slightly before stating that the prince's presence was requested in the courtyard. Arthur thanked him and the man left; he smiled slightly, allowing himself to focus on something other than the battle and his mysterious manservant. Gwen must be returning with the knights.

He stood and took one more look around the destroyed room before sighing and walking out, closing the door behind him.

When he reached the courtyard, he found that the entourage had not yet arrived, and had instead sent a man ahead; he informed Arthur that they were close and would be arriving any minute. Arthur sat down on the stone steps to wait, anticipating seeing Gwen again, feeling eager to relax in her comforting arms; he also wanted to apologize for her being left behind alone in an unfamiliar old castle, blaming himself partly for having left her so far behind. It was as he got so lost in thoughts again that he didn't notice when someone came up behind him until they sat down next to him, and by then it was too late to avoid the situation.

Merlin didn't say anything for a moment, and neither did Arthur; they simply sat there, staring out into the courtyard side by side, each with his own thoughts. Although Arthur had unconsciously tensed up when he realized who it was beside him, he did not actually feel as uncomfortable as he'd imagined he would; instead, he found the boy's presence somehow comforting, despite all that had transpired over the course of the last few days. It calmed him, sitting next to Merlin, and that only confused him more about the whole situation.

It was Merlin who finally broke the silence. "They're clearing up the rubble now. They haven't found anything yet."

Arthur nodded, considering the implications of that statement. He wasn't sure if he was relieved that Morgana might be alive or not; he hadn't quite sorted out those feelings yet, either.

It was silent again for a moment, before Merlin quietly spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Arthur glanced sideways at him. The boy's head was hanging slightly, his shoulders hunched as his elbows rested on his knees, his eyes still staring out into the courtyard.

"What for?" Arthur asked carefully.

Merlin chuckled slightly but without humor. "Everything?"

Arthur was about ready to question him closer and try for some answers, when he saw the boy's face; it was tired and grimy, with bags around his eyes and a bruise still on the side of his head, but it was none of this that caught his attention. It was the grim expression of weariness that seemed so out of place on the servant's face, yet again making Arthur feel confused and unable to interrogate the boy. It just didn't seem fair, to attack him now when he looked so forlorn, he who was always so cheerful and optimistic. And so, once again, Arthur found himself missing his opportunity to find answers from his friend, simply because he lost his nerve.

Instead, he found himself shrugging slightly. "It's not like any of it was your fault. It wasn't the fault of anyone, save for maybe Morgana or Morgause."

He thought he saw Merlin flinch slightly at that, but he pretended not to notice, assuming it had to do with Morgana's betrayal; they had all been friends with her, and he could see how any of them might turn the blame on themselves for what happened to her. It was a huge shock to everyone, not something that could be easily accepted.

In the silence that fell once again, Arthur noticed Merlin unconsciously reach up to rub his shoulder. Reminded of the boy's worryingly similar behaviour in the hall, he found himself speaking up.

"Merlin, what happened to your shoulder?"

Merlin glanced up at him sharply, when he seemed to realize what he was doing; he immediately let his hand fall.

"Nothing," he said quickly, "I'm fine, nothing wrong with me."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, if something's wrong, if you're hurt-"

"Arthur, I'm fine, really. Nothing's wrong with my shoulder, I don't know where you got that idea."

"Merlin-"

He was about to threaten the boy into telling him, or at least press him some more, but when he caught sight of the boy's face, he stopped short. His expression was stubborn and even bordering on fearful; it was enough to make Arthur pause and reconsider. He turned to look into the courtyard again, frustrated. Why was Merlin so infuriatingly mysterious? And why did he have to be so selfless?

Noticing the slight tension that was now between the two, Arthur scrambled for something to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Have you seen the state of these boots?" He finally directed at the boy to his left.

Merlin glanced at the prince's feet, before unconcernedly returning his gaze to a group of guards crossing the courtyard. "Yeah."

Arthur waited for a further response; when none came, he prompted the boy again. "Well, go and get something to clean them."

"Why? They're your boots."

Arthur stared at Merlin. "Have you lost your mind?"

A ghost of a smirk appeared on Merlin's face. "I thought you believed in equality."

"I'm sorry?"

"At the Round Table, you said-"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Seeing Merlin sitting there, biting his lip to keep from smiling, Arthur found himself grinning slightly in response. He leaned over to shove Merlin in his good shoulder, earning a half-hearted glare from the boy. He just smiled and sat next to him.

After a moment, Merlin voiced a question. "How's your father?"

Arthur sighed. "I don't know. All this. Morgana. It's hit him hard."

"Perhaps we're heading for a new time," Merlin said carefully, not looking at him. "You may need to take charge, become..." He hesitated. "...Become King."

Arthur didn't respond for a moment. When he did, it was with a weary tone. "Who knows what the future will bring."

Eventually, Merlin sighed. "I went by your chambers on my way here. I should go tidy them; they look like they could use some serious cleaning."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, before coming to a decision.

"Take the rest of the day off, Merlin."

Merlin in turn stared at him, surprised.

"I'm serious. Forget my rooms tonight, and my boots, and my stables... All of it. I can find someone else to fix the room for tonight."

Merlin tried to protest. "But-"

"I said _forget_ it, Merlin." He paused before saying more quietly than before, " You've earned it."

Merlin stared at him; Arthur, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, just looked straight ahead, watching the various people crossing the courtyard. Eventually Merlin turned his head back around to join him in his watch.

As they sat there, they heard the clattering of hoof beats coming towards the entrance to the courtyard. Arthur raised his head as the horses came to a stop on the hard stone; smiling, he stood and walked down the steps, then strode over to the front of the group, sweeping Gwen off the horse. Both smiling, they kissed and then hugged each other, each savoring the other's warmth and comforting embrace with relief. Feeling much happier, he threw a grateful glance at the knights and turned to lead Gwen into the castle; by the time he was facing the staircase, however, he noticed that Merlin was gone.

* * *

Guinevere had eventually headed for the makeshift infirmary, wanting to help with the injured, and Arthur had accompanied her, deciding he ought to ask Gaius for a more detailed report on the medical state of the castle. Upon arriving back in the large room, however, he found that Gaius was no longer present; he realized it was later than he had thought, and the physician must have gone back to his chambers to retire. Gwen began walking around and tending to the wounded, and Arthur decided he would leave her to her work and find Gaius.

Upon reaching the physician's chambers, Arthur was just about to enter when he heard voices coming from inside through the slightly cracked open door, sounding agitated; pausing with his hand still raised to knock, he tilted his head in an effort to better hear. Yet again recognizing the voice of his servant, he slowly lowered his hand, carefully pushing the door slightly farther open. He wondered wryly when it was that he had developed such a knack for spying; he seemed to be doing a lot of it lately, particularly on his manservant. The two seemed to be discussing medical topics such as injuries, the number of wounded, how many more bandages they had, and so forth. Feeling rather relieved but slightly disappointed that there was no point in hiding and eavesdropping, he straightened and went to push the door open, only to freeze again when he heard his sister's name mentioned.

The subject had changed; having apparently exhausted the topic of herbs and poultices, Gaius had turned the direction of the questions to that of the two sisters.

"And they searched through the remains of the rubble, and still no Morgana."

Arthur leaned closer to the door.

"Or Morgause," Merlin added grimly.

"They won't have gone far," Gaius said, sighing. He paused, then addressed the younger man sternly. "Merlin, no one else is going to say this to you, but I will."

Arthur's ear was practically touching the door.

"Well done."

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. Here was more proof that Merlin was up to something secret, but _what_? What on earth had the boy done to deserve such praise by Gaius, something he felt he had to hide?

Merlin just replied brightly, "I told you Camelot needed both of us."

Gaius chuckled slightly in response, but Arthur's mind had started going in circles again. Not only was Gaius in on the secret, he was a part of it?

Arthur heard a rustle as Gaius spoke again. "We're going to have to tidy this place up. "

Merlin made a noise of agreement. "But not now," Merlin said suddenly, and Arthur heard his chair scraping, implying that he was standing up.

"Where are you going?" Gaius asked sounding bemused. At Merlin's hesitation to answer, he demanded, "What are you up to?" Arthur could perfectly imagine the old physician's one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

Merlin sounded like he was smiling slightly. "There's something I have to do."

Arthur heard more moving around in the chambers; realizing Merlin was about to leave, it occurred to him that, being the prince, he couldn't be found spying at the door of the court physician. He quickly but quietly walked back to the end of the hallway before turning around and walking slowly and deliberately back towards the door. By the time the door opened and Merlin came out, it looked as though Arthur was only just reaching the chambers.

By that point, however, it didn't matter.

Merlin had turned the other way and strode purposefully down the hall, not even noticing the prince, so Arthur needn't have bothered with the whole act. But suddenly Arthur forgot all about appearances and Merlin's secrets and whether or not princes should be spying. Suddenly, none of it mattered to him. Because his attention was completely on the package in the servant's hands.

It was wrapped in rough brown cloth, easy to ignore, and Arthur might not have paid it too much mind normally; but the edge of the cloth had come loose on one side and was hanging down enough to show the edge of the object that was wrapped. And Arthur saw a flash of gold.

It was the sword; the same sword that he had seen Merlin with right before the fight, the same mysterious sword that had somehow called to him, drawn him towards it. And it was happening again; he felt a tug in his gut to follow it down the corridor, a sudden desire to hold it, to wield such a beautiful weapon.

It wasn't until Merlin turned the far corner, still oblivious to the prince, that said prince shook his head and snapped out of his trance. There was something about that sword that made him feel... He wasn't even sure what it did, all he knew was that it was not a normal sword. It didn't seem evil or malicious, but rather it felt somehow _right_, like it was supposed to be used. It just felt like his, and he found himself yearning to hold the perfect balance and weight of it, to feel it effortlessly slice through enemies and foes. Why did it have this effect on him? He couldn't say exactly why, but it slightly unnerved him. What sort of sword was it? And that brought back the matter of where Merlin had attained it; he doubted something like that could be found abandoned in an old castle by bandits. So where was it from? Now that Arthur was thinking straight again, his brain finally caught up with the implications of what just happened. Where was Merlin going with the sword? He rushed forward to look around the corner, but Merlin was long gone.

Arthur, cursing his slow thought process, raced down the hall to a window that overlooked the courtyard; he scanned the various faces and figures that milled about, until he found the bright red and blue clothing he was looking for. Merlin was exiting the stables on his mare, making his way over to the entrance to the courtyard. Arthur frowned, looking for the sword; finally he located the rough brown bundle of fabric sticking out of the saddlebag. He watched as Merlin made it through the main group of people and clicked his horse into a gallop, heading for the main gates to the city. Arthur strained to keep the horse and rider in view as long as possible; it seemed that they were headed for the forest, oddly enough. What could he possibly "have to do" in the middle of a forest with a sword? Once he was out of sight, Arthur stood there for a moment at a loss as to what was going on, before turning and making his way back to the physician's chambers in defeat.

* * *

**A/N: Jeez, that part about the sword was horrible. I had trouble writing it and I'm still not too spiffed with how it came out... Oh well, at least it wasn't ****_too_**** painful (I hope). And sorry if it seems like I'm avoiding an actual confrontation; it's coming soon, I promise. I actually wasn't planning on including these canon scenes, but I figured that you people needed an update and I am still having trouble with the next part, so voila. And how could I have left out that scene with the two of them on the steps? Answer: I couldn't, it's too perfect of a scene. If anyone has a problem with that, take it up with my pet cactus.**

**On matters of the earlier chapters: I wasn't really sure if the cup was in a specific room or not, but I remembered thinking it looked like the throne room and I didn't feel like researching, and I thought "throne room" sounded better than "random large windowed room #43". Also, I wasn't sure about time periods... I just went with the idea that it's all relatively in the same day, excluding chapter one which was obviously the night before. As for Arthur's room, I know that Morgana hadn't really gone insane yet, but I think that she had always had a very short temper and done rather rash things when provoked. I could see her becoming angry that Arthur and his knights had escaped, the people would not yield to her, etc., and therefore she could easily have decided to wage war and chaos on his belongings in an attempt to vent her feelings.**

**I'm sorry that I have not really been replying to reviews... if you were expecting a reply, please don't be offended that I seem to have ignored you, I just don't really reply. So don't take offense! :)**

**And one last bit of exciting news: I am now a registered betareader! So if you have a story you'd like me to read or proofread, send it to me and I'll do my best! If it's about another fandom, be aware that I might not be able to help a whole lot, depending on what fandom it is and whether or not I am familiar with it.**

**Have a lovely day, my dearies! And feel free to take a virtual brownie for the road! They're freshly baked :)**

**- SwitzD**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi everyone! Didja miss me? *dodges projectiles* *mutters* This fandom really likes throwing things...**

**So I know that I haven't updated since February, and I'm not going to bore you with all my excuses (I actually have legitimate excuses this time!) but I will say I have officially joined the Supernatural fandom. Still on season two, but give me a month or two... Anyway, that distracted me badly, but to make up for the long wait, I give you a long chapter!**

**It was honestly a lack of inspiration that killed me, but now I think I have most of the ending planned out so there shouldn't be any more loooooooong breaks. I only have a few more chapters, I think, so stay tuned! And thanks to everyone for support and criticism. Enjoy yourselves!**

**DISCLAIMER: IDOM any more than you do (unless you actually do...)**

* * *

Blind Trust

Chapter Five

Upon entering the physicians chambers, Arthur found the old man organizing some bottles and potions that had been knocked over; soldiers must have come through here at some point, probably looking for Gaius.

"Ah, sire. What brings you here?"

"Well," Arthur began, "if you're not too busy..."

"Oh, just tidying up a bit," he said. "Some of Morgause's men seem to have been here, although I can't imagine they would be looking for medical supplies what with their inability to die. Even so, they left quite a mess of my supplies." Gaius practically seemed indignant.

Arthur smiled slightly. "You should see my chambers."

Gaius gave a small smile back before turning to read the label on another bottle. Without looking up, he repeated his earlier question. "So, how may I be of service?"

Arthur was about to reply with his original request for a report, when he abruptly remembered Merlin riding out into the forest. He hesitated for a split second before he found himself straying from his original intentions.

"Well, actually, I was partly hoping to find Merlin here," he said, trying to act casual. "I wanted to ask him about... something." He made up, scrounging for a good excuse.

Gaius glanced at him briefly before returning his attention to his bottles. "I'm afraid you just missed him. He left only a few minutes ago."

Arthur nearly bit his lip trying to keep himself from spouting questions that would seem too suspicious, too curious; instead he managed, "Do you know when he'll be back?" He hoped his voice did not betray the burning curiosity that plagued him.

Gaius shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure; Most likely rather soon, but I'm afraid I don't know what it is he had to do."

Arthur tried to hide his disappointment, having learned next to nothing; he was hoping Gaius might have been able to give him _something_, but apparently such was not the case. It was as he silently paused, scrambling to remember his other reasons for coming, that Gaius turned to look at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Any particular reason for this sudden interest in Merlin?"

Arthur nearly jumped in shock; did Gaius somehow know that Arthur was suspicious, spying on the boy? That he knew there was some secret going on?

Noticing his odd expression, Gaius explained, "I thought you gave him the night off, and surely you're both tired."

Arthur gave a small sigh of relief. Gaius was simply wondering why he was asking after Merlin, not becoming suspicious; Arthur mentally scolded himself for being so paranoid. Composure regained, Arthur tried to ignore the odd look he was getting and replied, "Oh, no, I just wanted to ask him... Well, it can wait until tomorrow. Although..." He was hit with sudden inspiration. "Gaius, have you seen to Merlin? Medically, I mean?"

Gaius's eyebrow raised higher. "Why?"

Arthur felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze. "Well, twice now I've seen him rubbing his shoulder as though it was in pain, but when I mentioned it, he grew very evasive and tried to convince me it was fine. I just wanted to know if you've actually checked him over or if he's really got a problem."

Gaius sighed. "Yes, I did convince him to allow me a look. His shoulder is strained and rather sore, but thankfully nothing more serious."

Arthur frowned. Why would he try to hide it then, unless-then it dawned on Arthur that Merlin was just being selfless, and didn't want others worrying about him when there was already so much to worry about. It was just like him to be thinking of others, even after he seems to have played a major role in reclaiming the kingdom, all without praise or recognition. Or maybe the boy was just trying to avoid the subject of what happened in the throne room while they were retaking the castle. He spoke up again tentatively.

"Gaius, since you were in the throne room with him, could you... Tell me... What happened? To him?"

Gaius looked at him for a moment scrutinizingly, before he seemed to decide to answer.

"He was thrown into a wall. He's lucky; he could have sustained much worse than a strained shoulder."

Arthur was surprised and a little confused. "Thrown into a wall...?"

"Yes, by Morgause."

The prince was even more confused; he couldn't imagine a woman, not even the blonde, managing to _throw _a man into a wall. "But how-ah." He cut off mid sentence, the pieces finally clicking together in his mind. "She used magic." He stated rather than asked, knowing it was true. Bitter thoughts rose up in his mind and filled his head.

"Yes, sire," Gaius said with an odd edge to his voice, "she did."

Arthur looked up at the old man, slightly surprised. "Is something the matter?"

"No, sire."

"If something is on your mind, then speak it, Gaius," Arthur said.

It was a moment before Gaius answered. "You say 'magic' as if it is blasphemous, something disgusting."

Arthur just looked at him wearily. "And why shouldn't I, after all I have suffered-all we have all suffered-at the hands of magic?"

"Because," Gaius said, "you sound just like your father."

Arthur stared. "What has that got to do with anything?"

Gaius sighed. "Nothing, I'm just disappointed that you share his prejudices."

Arthur just stood there, stunned. "Prejudices? Gaius, this is _magic_. It's not prejudice I hold, it's a learned hatred of a force of evil."

Gaius shook his head. "Magic is not a force for evil, but is rather used for such ends by evil people. Magic itself is merely a skill that can be learned and used as the user sees fit."

Arthur found anger overcoming his shock. "The only magic I have ever encountered has been used for evil, selfish purposes and it always causes harm."

"Have you ever considered the fact," Gaius countered, "that most people with good magic avoid Camelot? Innocent people were being executed for a skill they had, even if it was only healing. You think magical people would want to come anywhere near here with such a threat hanging over their heads? The only sorcerers who announced themselves to you and your father are those who desire revenge or come with evil intent towards you, those with schemes and plans. Your father has a pyre built at the slightest mention of magic and preaches daily of its evil; you don't exactly give sorcerers much chance to demonstrate anything otherwise."

Arthur just stood there rather stupidly, his mind scrambling to process this rant, trying desperately to think of a counter argument.

Gaius sighed and his face grew a reminiscent look. "There was a time, you know, before the Purge, when magic was something beautiful, something that healed and was as natural as wind or sunshine. It was not shunned or hunted as it is now." The old man looked out the window. "In these very streets, you could find children laughing at a display of magic tricks by a passing sorcerer, or a mother healing her daughter's bruise with a spell. It was a time of peace and wonder, the likes of which you have never known, having grown up after the purge."

He sighed again and turned away.

Arthur was shocked, both at what Gaius had told him and the fact that Gaius _had _told him. He was surprised Gaius was brave enough to speak of something that was practically treasonous in nature so openly, and wondered how long he must have wanted to say that out loud. But almost as soon as that thought went through his mind, Gaius's words hit Arthur like a powerful blow.

Magic could be... good?

_What_?

* * *

Later that night found Arthur lying in bed, attempting to sleep but failing spectacularly. It was pitch black and he had blown his candle out hours before, yet sleep still eluded him. His mind continually went in circles pondering what Gaius had said; he wasn't coming to any new conclusions or feeling any less confused, and yet he just couldn't stop _thinking _about it all, trying to sort out the tangled, jumbled mess that now resided in his thoughts.

It made no sense whatsoever; it was impossible. That was what he kept repeating to himself over and over, a feeble attempt by the part of him loyal to his father to end this madness. He so desperately wanted to believe that it WAS madness, just the ramblings of an old man losing his memory, but, desperately though he tried to squash it, the more rational part of his mind was actually considering the physician's talk.

Could he actually have been wrong about magic?

But that would completely undermine everything his father had ever believed, everything he had ever done for the last twenty years... Including everything he had ordered Arthur to do. Arthur's stomach was churning slightly; had he, in his quest for a justly ruled, safe kingdom, raided villages and attacked magical communities that were innocent? No, his mind immediately reacted, they used magic, they were evil. And yet against his will, memories began to surface at his mind, images and voices of Druids, running, screaming, while Arthur and his knights surrounded them and cut down clusters of huts and tents, tearing through lines of washing and stick fences. How could people live in such a remote, peaceful place if they were cruel and hell-bent on causing pain and suffering to others? It just didn't fit, and Arthur realized he had been wondering about some of this for years but had merely been smothering the questions, believing in his father and reminding himself of the evil he had witnessed from magic. But there had been so many people in those villages... Was it really so probable as he had once believed that they _all _practiced magic? Every last man, woman and child?

He groaned and sat up. There was no way he was finding any sleep like this. It was killing him, trying to figure out if his father was justified or if they had spent the last twenty years committing atrocious crimes. He sat on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off the sides, taking in his surroundings; the chamber was very dark, the only light coming from the window as the silver moon shone down, illuminating his tidy chambers. Someone had cleaned the disastrous mess while he had been out earlier, and it was now near spotless again. He wondered who had done it; probably some young servant, jumping at the chance to escape the hard, dangerous work of moving rocks from the throne room or clearing rubble in the village. He sighed; it made him think of Merlin, and wonder if he was asleep in his bed, or awake like Arthur. Then again, the prince reminded himself, it wasn't as if the other boy had had his whole life's ideals turned over and flipped on their backs as the blonde had.

Arthur was wondering what Merlin might be thinking about should he be awake, when he realized that he probably had no idea. His manservant, the boy he spent nearly every day with, was alien to him, and not just the clumsy boy he thought he knew. Oh, Arthur had no doubt that he was still a clumsy idiot who grinned too much, that he was still the loyal, brave young man who was often too wise for his own good. That was not something he could fake, and for some reason Arthur felt confident that the manservant he had thought he knew was still all there. But ever since that night when Arthur overheard his hushed confession to Lancelot, he had realized that there was so much more to the boy, so much pain and feeling, yet so much loyalty and selflessness... It was overwhelming to think of what Merlin might actually go through every day, hidden to the rest of the world save for a select few who had his trust. It also surprised and saddened Arthur that he was not in that small group, that the boy did not trust him as he seemed to trust Lancelot. When it had first occurred to him that the often absent knight was closer to Merlin than Arthur ever had been, he had been angry and hurt. Yet now, in the darkly silent hours with no company save for his own mind, he found that he could only feel a deep sadness, no more. Perhaps a bit of disappointment even, but he could not find it in himself to be angry or violent as he often did.

Arthur slowly stood, testing out his feet on the floor. He recoiled slightly upon feeling the cold stone, and felt a pang of longing for a fire such as the ones that burned all night in his hearth on cold winter nights. It would provide comfort, warmth, and familiarity to have some embers glowing in the fireplace. All the less, he thought as he slipped a shirt on and wandered into the corridor, the silence and darkness were somewhat soothing to his exhausted mind. It provided peace and an odd loneliness, something he was not accustomed to with such a busy castle operating around him every day. It was refreshing and made him feel rather liberated, as though he didn't have to act for anyone, or put on a brave face, or be the prince; he was just a young man, wandering the halls of a great castle. It was exhilarating but calming. He hadn't felt this relaxed since... since he had been sitting with Merlin earlier.

Arthur almost swore under his breath. Why couldn't he cast the boy from his mind? For God's sake, everything kept leading back to Merlin; the boy was invading his thoughts at every turn, and he was getting tired of it. He was done with thinking, and wondering, and pondering, and trying to make sense of things that just didn't want to make sense. He didn't want to worry and anguish about magic and his father. He didn't want to feel that twinge of doubt whenever he was around Merlin, and he didn't want to suffer the confusion and torment of secrets and betrayals and lies from everyone he knew. He was just so tired of it all; he felt like screaming just to let it all out, to try and alleviate some of the distress and anxiety that was dogging him like a moth to a candle. He just wanted it all to end.

Uncharacteristically, Arthur felt his eyes sting slightly. He ignored this, blaming it on his exhaustion and cool breeze around him. His pace remained constant, ambling through the dark hallways and staircases he knew so well, never stopping or thinking, just continuing. It surprised him, how few people were out; he only ever passed the occasional guard and a few rare servants, trying to catch up on some chores for the lazy noble they served. There was usually more activity, even in the night; Arthur supposed that most of the castle must be taking a break, allowing some slack as their own way of celebrating the victory in reclaiming the castle. All the same, Arthur avoided the more brightly lit hallways and the glaring orange torches that dotted the walls here and there; whenever he heard another person moving about nearby, he would step into the shadows or turn down another corridor, preferring his isolation for the time being.

Eventually, he found his way to the throne room. Again, it struck him how eerily silent the room was; he carefully entered, keeping an eye on the ground to avoid any of the remaining chunks of rock that littered the dusty stone ground. He paused in the middle of the room, looking at the floor; this was where Morgana had sat hunched over her sister's body, wailing her fury and grief to the world as she caused it to literally collapse around her. Arthur looked around him. All the destruction, all the rocks and dust, served only to remind him yet again of Morgana. He stifled that thought chain as quickly as he could; he was trying to find some peace, some closure, and this was not the way to do so. After all, in his mind, the Morgana he had known and had considered to be like a sister was gone, dead, and he was grieving for her. The cruel, powerful, power-hungry woman who had driven Uther mad and tried to kill Arthur, was not his sister. His sister was gone, and all he wanted was some closure, some easing of the pain of betrayal and grief that coincided with the thought of her.

He shook his head, trying to rid it of these thoughts, and moved on, further into the throne room. He found his mind instead wandering towards the odd scene he had witnessed, and what he knew of the events that had played out. Here and there, barely visible beneath the dust, scorch marks were visible on the stone floor, most likely from when the magical soldiers had all simultaneously exploded; he counted at least a dozen, meaning there must have been quite a number of guards inside. On the pillar closest to the door, he found a spot of blood-most likely Lancelot's, as he had been leaning against said pillar when Arthur found him. He must have been slashed by one of Morgause's soldiers; it was a miracle he had made it that far in the first place without major injury, but then again, Lancelot was an incredibly skilled swordsman. Still, it amazed Arthur that they had managed to hold off for so long against so many of the guards, when they had had no way of damaging or gaining an advantage over the enemy.

Going farther into the room, he noticed the huge blood stains across the column next to the pedestal which had apparently held the Cup of Life. The source of all their troubles had sat right here; judging by the way the blood seemed to have splashed into the column, he assumed it must have been thrown, as though someone had grabbed the cup and thrown the liquid at the wall. Or perhaps it had been knocked over, some force hitting the cup from the side and causing the blood inside to splatter in the other direction. The cup itself had since been confiscated by knights; Arthur wasn't sure where it had been taken, but he trusted his knights to have taken it somewhere safe. Still, being the prince, he thought, he really ought to look into that.

And now that he was dwelling on the cup, his thoughts were turning again to the Druids. When he went to retrieve the Cup from the mysterious people, he had expected them to fight, not to just give it up. At the time, he had assumed they were not resorting to violence only because he had the young child as a hostage. But now, he couldn't help but wonder... Had that been really necessary? He had threatened a child because the people had held an object with the power over life and death itself, and he expected them to defend it with all they had. But what if they never even planned on attempting to keep it? What if, given the chance, they would have handed it over willingly? It was such a powerful, dangerous object... But had they not used it for good, saving lives? The life of a knight of Camelot, no less, one who had probably helped hunt down Druids himself. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he really had been wrong about them all along.

Light was beginning to peek through the tall windows, no more than a faint glow, and Arthur began to make his way back through the debris towards the doors. With his father still recovering, it fell to him to take charge of the kingdom, and he would no doubt have to get an early start. He still had an hour or two before the day really started, however, so he decided to get some fresh air.

He stood on the walkway of the battlements, surveying the view in front of him. There was the city, his people, all still asleep save for the few early rising peasants already out. Past that, the forest stood, its trees tall and strong, the tops beginning to turn yellow with the light of the rising sun. Watching the sun come up and peek out from behind the horizon was something he had treasured as a young child, but nowadays he usually slept rather late unless he had somewhere to be. He had forgotten how much he used to love it, watching the bright white slowly reach up as the shadows and darkness were pushed away, gone until the next night. It comforted him to know that the sun would rise, just like it always had, and signify a new day; it seemed as though nothing in his life was the same anymore, except the sunrise.

Arthur stood there for a long time, watching as the world slowly came to life, until the sun was fully up and he turned to leave. It was late; he couldn't waste the whole day away up here, daydreaming and wishing things could go back to how they were, when everything made sense and life was kinder. He had responsibilities, and he would see them through despite any wishes otherwise. It was time to become Prince Arthur Pendragon again.

* * *

He headed down the stairs and toward the other end of the castle where his chambers were. He passed a few servants and the usual guards, the latter standing impassively as he passed while the former mostly acknowledged him with a bow or a murmured "sire" before continuing in their duties. He nodded to them, barely taking notice of any, still in somewhat of a trance. He was just passing the opening of another hallway when he heard his name called out.

"Arthur?"

He turned to find Guinevere walking towards him. Arthur smiled and waited for her to join him.

"Where are you off to?" He asked her.

She smiled. "Oh, I was just heading to the laundry room. I thought I would help a friend with some of her chores, seeing as I don't have much to do right now."

She looked a little sad, and it was a second before Arthur remembered that Morgana was not here, and therefore there was no need for Gwen to help her dress or make her bed. He realized that he had forgotten how much it must have hurt Gwen when Morgana changed.

He smiled sadly at her. "I'm sure we can find you a new job soon, Gwen."

"I'm sure something will turn up," she agreed. "I'm just not sure if I could stand being a hand maid to someone else now."

Arthur nodded. "I know how close you were to her. It was a big shock for all of us when..." He stopped, finding himself unable to finish. The thought of Morgana was still a bit much for him as well.

Gwen just nodded. She looked like she might cry, so Arthur hugged her. They both seemed to take comfort from being in each other's arms

"I can't believe she would turn on us like that," Gwen said sadly.

Arthur sighed. "I was more surprised at the fact that she has magic."

She didn't answer, but he felt her stiffen very slightly. He pulled away to look at her. "_You _didn't know, did you?"

Gwen had a slightly ashamed expression and looked away.

"How did you know? And why didn't you say something?"

Gwen's eyes definitely looked wet now. "I don't know why I didn't tell you, there just wasn't a good time and I was so scared, I just didn't know what to do..."

Arthur calmed her down and asked, "When did you find out?"

She sniffed. "It was when you went to the perilous lands. I hid in her room and saw her use magic. I was just so frightened-"

Arthur shushed her. "It's okay, I'm not mad. Most people _would _be scared if they found out that someone they know uses magic."

"It wasn't the magic that scared me," she said tearfully, "it was Morgana that scared me."

Arthur was confused. "You mean you were scared because she was using magic, right? It was a sign that she was turning evil."

Gwen shook her head. "I didn't care as much about the magic. It shocked me, but it wasn't what scared me. It was _her_, and what she was doing, that really frightened me. She was setting fire to a box full of dust and chanting something and your name was in there, and I found out later that she was trying to hurt you."

Arthur gaped. "She was trying to attack me? Even then?"

Gwen just sniffed again. "That's why I was so scared-I was beginning to think she didn't mean any of us well anymore."

Arthur just hugged her tightly. He couldn't believe she had known for so long. The poor girl must have been forced to watch as Morgana changed and transformed, feeling powerless to do anything about it. He stood there, holding her and thinking about what she said, until he thought of something.

"Guinevere... You said you weren't scared of her magic. Why not? Sorcerers are supposed to be dangerous."

She eyed him warily, so he added, "Honestly, I just want to understand."

She was silent for a moment before she spoke. "I suppose that... Well... I'm not really sure."

He looked her in the eye. "Guinevere..."

She sighed. "I'm not so sure that all magic is naturally evil. And it wasn't her choice to learn it, she just developed it one year. Apparently she would wake up at night from a dream and accidentally break a pot that was on the other side of the room, and she had been terrified of herself at first. It was never her choice."

Arthur stared at her. Morgana had had magic naturally? Was that even possible? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "But, Gwen... Are you serious about magic? You honestly don't think it's evil?"

She shrugged. "I think it is often used for evil purposes. My own father died because an evil sorcerer tricked him, but he was an _evil _sorcerer. I think it's just a skill, a power, that some people have. I'm not sure it's actually evil itself. All people are different; is it really so hard to believe that while some use this power for bad purposes, some control it and use it for safer purposes?"

Arthur just stood there with a furrowed brow. Guinevere began to look worried, so Arthur hugged her again and reassured her.

"Thank you, Guinevere. For telling the truth."

She smiled at him, before letting go. "I should really go do that laundry."

Arthur nodded but said, "Wait... I just have one more question."

"Of course," she responded.

"How did you know so much about Morgana? You said you saw her chanting, but how did you know she was trying to kill me? And how did you find out about how she developed her powers?"

Guinevere shrugged. "I talked to Gaius and Merlin. They told me." Then she turned and walked away.

* * *

**A/N: So? I'd love to hear what you think, whether praising or critical, it all helps. If you don't like something about my writing, please tell me so I can make writing that you _do _like. If you think it was awkward, or OOC, or if I just used too many commas throughout, feel free to leave a review or message me. Like I said, I think I know how to end it now, so updates should be faster. In the meantime, occupy yourselves with something else (like SPN) and try not to throw things!**

**- SwitzD**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I would like to apologize right off the bat for this late update. I thought it would be faster, but I had some trouble writing this and spent a long time deliberating. I'm now officially out of school for the summer, so I promise I'll work on it more often. And I'm also rather ashamed to say that this chapter did not hit my personal minimum of 2.5k and is fairly short, but I felt that I ended it in a good place and figured it was time to update... you'll see. Enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: Now that the series is officially over, I don't think anyone would care if I claimed ownership. That said, IDOM.**

* * *

Blind Trust

Chapter 6

Arthur continued down the hallway, thinking.

He had been shocked when she said that Gaius and Merlin had known about Morgana's magic and her... _shifting_ loyalties. Why hadn't they done anything then to stop her? And why hadn't they told anyone else? Other than Gwen, of course, who had found out on her own. Just how involved with the whole scandal _was_ Merlin?

Not only that, but he was becoming more agitated about the whole matter of magic than ever. Even Gwen didn't think magic was evil. Had Arthur really just been following his father's... _prejudices_ all this time? How had he not seen any of this, not come to the same conclusions as his friends?

Finally he reached his chambers. He opened the door and walked inside, and was about to go sink into his chair when he realized someone was already in the room.

Arthur stopped dead when he saw the mop of black hair. Of course he should have been expecting Merlin to show up sooner or later, but the sight of the boy just made him freeze unexpectedly. What was he supposed to do? What should he say? After everything he had just found out, all the secrets that he now knew existed between them, how was he supposed to react to the usual, goofy smile that was now facing him?

"Where have you been?" Was the first thing Merlin asked upon hearing Arthur enter.

The prince glared half-heartedly as he walked in. "You're up bright and early today, Merlin."

The manservant grinned, unfazed. "I could say the same for you. Do you usually go for a nighttime stroll, and then sneak back into bed before I get here?"

Arthur grunted. "I couldn't sleep."

"Well isn't that specific. 'Oh, I couldn't sleep.' So what, you decided to go visit the horses? Rather unusual method of dealing with insomnia, don't you think?"

"I don't have insomnia," Arthur said annoyedly. Merlin's incessant chatter was not something he wanted to deal with right now when he was tired and attempting to sort out his thoughts and feelings. Trying to alleviate some of his grievances, he went over to lean against the window sill, his back to Merlin.

"Sure, whatever you say. Although I suppose it _could_ be other causes... Maybe you're anxious or stressed-"

"You don't say," Arthur muttered to himself.

"-which would be entirely explainable, considering everything that's been going on. Or maybe you're having nightmares and you're trying to make them stop. Or-"

"You would know about nightmares, wouldn't you, Merlin?" Arthur asked even-voiced without turning from his view out the window.

Merlin paused in his rambling. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Arthur wasn't sure what had made him say it, but he was tired of the secrets and wondering and had found himself with an urge to blurt it out, see Merlin's reaction. And now that he had said it out loud, the only thing he could do was plow ahead. "I mean Morgana. And her nightmares."

There was silence. Merlin didn't respond for a minute, until he said with a hint of a voice crack, "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"I understand they became a bit... serious."

When Merlin was again silent, he added, "Especially when they caused her to have magical outbursts at night."

A needle could have been heard dropping.

Arthur finally turned around from the window to find his manservant frozen at the foot of his bed, staring at him. He stared right back, waiting for some sort of response.

Finally, Merlin slowly began, "I wouldn't know, Gaius is the one wh-"

"I don't want to hear it," Arthur cut him off, and Merlin snapped his mouth shut with a slightly agitated look hidden behind his attempt at a calm mask. "I don't want any excuses or lies anymore. I am sick of it all."

"Arthur-"

"No, Merlin, I mean it. You happen to be one of the people I trust most, the one whose advice I take nearly as seriously as that of my own father. I spend all my time with you and talk to you about my worries or fears in a way that I barely talk to anyone else about." Arthur wasn't sure where this little rant had come from, but he wasn't about to stop. "I trust you beyond almost anyone else, Merlin, and after all we've been through together... I thought maybe you might reciprocate that trust. So how do you think it feels when I realize just how little you tell me about?"

Merlin looked like he'd been punched in the gut; Arthur didn't stop, however, and just kept going.

"First you sneak off during the main battle on a suicide mission and refuse to tell anyone, especially me, for reasons I couldn't _possibly_ understand," he found his voice to be rising in increasing agitation, "and you somehow manage to single-handedly save the whole kingdom and incapacitate Morgause-"

"You think I did that?" Merlin gave a nervous, forced-sounding laugh. "Lancelot-"

"Lancelot was wounded and on the ground, Merlin, leaving you and Gaius, and I doubt Gaius could have done a whole lot against immortal knights and a powerful sorceress."

"What, and I could? You're the one who always says I'm a weakling, that I'm useless, that I hide during fights. And now you think I beat Morgause in a _fight_?"

"I'm not seeing any alternatives here, Merlin, and I've been realizing lately that there's a lot I don't know about you. Like why, for instance, you decided to take it upon yourself to save everyone. We have a band of knights, for God's sake, why not let one of them go after the cup and empty it? Why not even _tell_ any of us?"

"Wait-how did you know about the cup?" Merlin stopped the arguing with a confused question.

Arthur hesitated, still riled up, and considered refusing to respond until his own questions had been answered, but finally he spoke. "The night before, in the old castle. I heard you and Lancelot. And your _intimate_ conversation."

Merlin paled. "You... You heard..."

"Yes, Merlin, I did. And I would like to know exactly what it is that makes you think you can withhold vital information, like the fact that the army could be _destroyed_, and instead take it upon yourself to attempt."

Merlin was still looking shocked, but managed to say, "If you knew what I was doing the night before, then why didn't you stop me? Or say something? Demand answers?"

"I'm demanding answers now, in case you hadn't noticed, idiot. And if you must know, I decided to let you do whatever it was you thought you were doing. Because I trusted you. Even after listening to you tell Lancelot to keep secrets from me, I still trusted you." Arthur swallowed angrily. "And so I let you go off, trusting that you knew what you were doing, and I was right, wasn't I? You somehow emptied the cup and triumphed over Morgause."

Merlin was looking shameful now as Arthur continued, almost yelling in his frustration.

"Maybe I should have been bothered that you hadn't trusted me, that you hadn't deemed me worthy of knowing everything! After Morgana, you'd think I would be done trusting people. But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to consider you a threat. Hell, if it weren't for you, I'd still be wallowing in a cave somewhere! So yes, I blindly trusted you, because I value loyalty. But now I'm sick and tired of secrets and guile and pretending. I just want the _truth_!"

The sudden quiet after all the yelling was tense. The two boys stared at each other, neither speaking nor moving. Finally, Merlin spoke somewhat timidly.

"I do trust you, Arthur, but there are some things I can't tell you. There are some things I can't tell anyone."

"You seem to have told Lancelot," Arthur pointed out angrily. "And Gaius is in on it, too."

Merlin shook his head. "They both found out by accident. That wasn't my choice."

Arthur wanted to throw something. "What could _possibly_ be so bad, so important, that you can't tell anyone? That you can't even tell _me_?"

Merlin's face was full of deep, conflicted emotions. "I... I just can't. You wouldn't understand. And you'd probably hate me."

"You can't know that!"

"I can't take that risk right now, however much I would like to-"

"So you're refusing to trust me again."

Merlin flinched. It was obvious that he didn't want to be having this conversation, but Arthur wouldn't let up until he had answers. All the same, he lowered his voice to a slightly calmer tone.

"Why can't you just agree to trust me for once, like I trusted you?" Arthur said. "Nothing could possibly be bad enough that it would turn me against you. You are the most loyal friend I have and I would never forget that. It doesn't matter what secrets you might have, I still know you and I know what kind of a man you are. So what makes you think I could ever hate you? You could have killed someone and I wouldn't judge you. Hell, at this point you could have magic and I probably wouldn't even mind-"

Merlin nearly jumped and snapped his head up to look at him. Arthur stopped, confused at his reaction.

"What?"

"Since when do you talk about magic like it's nothing?" Merlin asked, looking shaken, eyes wide.

Arthur sighed, remembering his new outlook on the topic. "Look, I know how you feel about magic, but I think we've been wrong about it. All this time, and I thought it was evil... But it would appear that I am rather alone in that belief."

Merlin just gaped at him in shock.

"I hardly see how that's very relevant to our _discussion_, Merlin," Arthur continued. "I still want an answer fr-"

"You think magic is good?"

Merlin was still staring at him.

"Sort of," Arthur said impatiently, "I was wrong, okay? I was wrong, my father was wrong, we were all wrong about it. It's not strictly evil, I now have reason to believe it can be used for good by the right people. I know it may be too confusing for your idiotic head, and I don't expect you to understand or agree right now-"

Merlin mumbled something, but Arthur didn't quite catch what, though it sounded like a disagreement. He ignored the boy and continued.

"So can we try to move on for the moment and get back to the topic at hand?"

Merin didn't answer. He still looked a bit pale and was staring at the floor.

"_Merlin_!"

"_What_?"

"What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing!" Merlin turned away and began straightening the sheets on Arthur's bed.

"Then why can't you give me a straight answer?"

"I-I just can't."

"That's not a reasonable answer and you know it!" Arthur's frustration was peaking. "I'm your _prince_, your _friend_, of course you can tell me. _Nothing_ could be so bad that-"

"Couldn't it?"

Arthur stared at Merlin's tense back as he continued to arrange the covers.

"Merlin, I demand to-"

_CRASH_.

Yet again, Arthur was interrupted, but this time not by Merlin. At the loud sound, he whipped around, his knight's instincts allowing him to turn in time to see the last shards fall to the floor. Where a glass vase had stood on his table, there was now a mess of spilled water and broken fragments lying strewn about from where they had apparently blown apart. Arthur stared at it in surprise for a moment, before looking around, searching for an explainable cause of the explosion. Finding none, he turned back to Merlin expecting to see a similar look of surprise or confusion on his face; instead, however, the boy was standing rigid with a look of shock and something else. Before Arthur had time to recognise what other emotion was on his face, Merlin was gone, out the door, the sound of his running footsteps already fading.

"MERLIN!"

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**A/N: Again, I apologize for the short length but like I said, it was a good ending place and high time for publishing. I should probably also apologize for the large number of times the boys were cutting each other off in this chapter-neither of them really get to finish their sentences much... eh.**

** I have a vague idea of where to go from here, so I hope to get another chapter up within a month, and I will do my best to make it rather long. In the meantime, enjoy life, do fun things, and eat delicious food.**

**- SwitzD**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Why hello there, my friends! Surprised to see me? Of course you are, I'm sure you all gave up on me a while back, but I did promise to have this up within a month. And here I am, a few days short of said deadline, providing more of my brilliantly prolonged, much awaited chapters! Eh, I had an urge to finish this part and I think all the talk of Sherlock series three and four are inspiring me not to keep you all waiting for too long. And now, I give you chapter seven!**

**DISCLAIMER: My alibi has not changed. I still do not claim ownership of Merlin.**

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Blind Trust

Chapter 7

Arthur strode down the hallway briskly. Having lost Merlin quite a few minutes ago, he was starting to think he might not find the boy again today. He was looking in every hallway he passed, peering briefly in each door he encountered, trying to guess where he had gone, but having no luck. The hallways were still rather quiet, considering how early it was, so there weren't as many people to act as witnesses as there normally might be. He had managed to get the general gist of which direction Merlin had gone from the few people around, however, and now he was just trying to figure out where he would have run off to.

Or _why_, for that matter.

To be honest, Arthur had absolutely no idea what had caused his servant to take off like that. At first he had thought that maybe the questions were getting to be a little TOO hard, and Merlin had taken the opportunity of Arthur's distraction to escape. But it was such an easy answer, almost too easy, and Arthur knew that this could not be all there was to it. He himself had seen the look on Merlin's face right before he fled, the look that was equal parts shock, horror, and fear. That was what he had decided the emotions had been as he had run after the boy. But why, he had asked himself, would Merlin be so terrified looking? And he had decided that it must have been the vase. The self-shattering vase with no explanation. Arthur himself had only been mildly startled where Merlin had acted as though someone had died. Why on earth would he do that?

Arthur thought back to the vase as he glanced in another doorway, found nothing, and continued on. The vase had shattered seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason; the only plausible explanations he had come up with to explain the odd event were both very far-fetched. Either some sort of object had been thrown or had fallen, causing it to break, or it had been broken by magic.

As he had thought before, both were _very _far-fetched.

At least he thought he had Merlin figured out. He had considered the fact that Merlin had come to the same conclusions as he had, especially the magic one. He knew Merlin had always acted oddly whenever the subject of magic had come up, and he assumed the boy was uncomfortable with it or scared, which wasn't exactly unlikely after the reputation it had earned. Not to mention that his friend in Ealdor-Will, was it?-had died because of his magic. And if Merlin had known about Morgana having magic before, and then watched as she slowly turned bad and began using it for evil, well, no one would blame him for learning to dislike magic after that. So when the vase had shattered, he assumed that Merlin had thought it was magic as well and been terrified.

It was the only logical explanation he had, and it sounded rather plausible.

Arthur stuck his head around yet another corner, only to find an empty hallway once more. He made a noise of frustration and grabbed his hair, turning on the spot towards a window. It was getting progressively brighter outside and he could hear birds calling to each other throughout the town. He racked his brain desperately. Where the hell could Merlin have g-

Then it occurred to him. Merlin always did like the open air, and Arthur bet that's where he would go if he was worried or stressed. He turned back the way he had come, practically running back down the hall until he came to a stairwell. He took two steps at a time, throwing himself forward until he reached the door at the top; there he suddenly lurched to a stop and paused, catching his breath, noting how the door was slightly ajar and sunlight was coming through. He gently pushed it all the way open, glancing out onto the near-deserted battlements.

Sure enough, he saw the tell-tale red shirt and black hair; Merlin was sitting against the stone wall, hunched over with his knees drawn up, staring at the folded hands in his lap. Arthur stepped out, blinking slightly in the bright light, and hesitated for a moment to make sure he wouldn't run away; when Merlin didn't so much as look up in response, Arthur quietly walked over to where he sat bathed in golden sunlight, folded his legs, and sat down next to the boy. Still, Merlin barely moved, just staring into his lap as though Arthur had never shown up. Arthur noticed now that Merlin's hands were trembling ever so slightly, and wondered what it was that caused Merlin to be so shaken. He didn't really know where to start or how to break the silence, though, so he just sat and stared straight ahead, waiting for something to happen. For quite a while nothing did, and they both sat there in silence, until Merlin spoke quite suddenly.

"Were you serious?" He blurted out, turning his head to look at Arthur.

Arthur looked back at him in surprise. "About what?"

Merlin swallowed and looked back into his lap. "About... " He hesitated. "About magic."

Arthur stared at him. Merlin didn't look back up, but he started fiddling with his hands, as though suddenly restless.

"Magic?" Arthur repeated in a confused voice. "You mean what I said before?"

Merlin didn't answer, but he swallowed again.

Arthur's brow creased. "Well, yes, but why is that-"

And then it occurred to him.

And suddenly he thought he knew exactly why.

But... no. It wasn't possible. It was _Merlin_, there was no way-

Meanwhile, at his sudden silence, Merlin's hands had begun to move vaguely faster, as though more agitated.

Arthur continued to stare at Merlin until finally he managed to speak. "Merlin..." It was a moment before he continued. "You don't... you know... have..."

Merlin didn't look up.

Arthur sat there in shock. It was a moment before he was able to speak again, and he did so rather slowly as though he couldn't quite believe it. "You have magic."

Still no response from Merlin.

Arthur's mind was suspended between shock and denial. It's not possible, he kept telling himself, Merlin couldn't possibly be a sorcerer, he's just a bumbling servant, he couldn't...

But then Arthur realized how it all made sense. He already knew that Merlin wasn't only a stupid idiot, that he had secrets and was more than just a farm boy. He had already known that Merlin had something special about him, that he was different. He thought about how Merlin always went with him on even the most dangerous quests despite his lack of armor or ability with a sword. He always seemed to know what was going on when there was a crisis and he had essentially saved the whole kingdom from Morgana and Morgause. It was as though Arthur had had all the puzzle pieces before him, but he hadn't seen how they fit together until he was given this last, essential piece. Magic. Merlin had had magic all this time.

His first instinct was obviously to be horrified and disgusted, but it was a short-lived feeling considering his mind was still fresh with all the new perspectives he had received in the last day. It was rather odd, he thought offhandedly, how magic being evil had been drilled into him since he was born, and yet in a matter of hours he had allowed his whole viewpoint to change; perhaps it was because he'd always had a feeling deep down that something wasn't right in all the executions and hunts. But here was his best friend, telling him that he had magic, and instead of feeling angry or betrayed, somehow, he felt rather numb, almost calm. Sure, he was completely shocked and had never expected this, but he wasn't feeling exceptionally strongly in either a negative or positive direction. Arthur supposed he was a bit in shock, and it hadn't fully hit him quite yet. That might have had to do with the fact that he hadn't slept at all.

Something else occurred to him. "That vase..."

With shaking hands, Merlin rubbed his temple. "I haven't lost control like that in a long time."

Arthur's frowned, taken aback. "You... you lost control? Is that even possible? I thought magic is a skill that requires effort, not something to... rein in, as you make it sound. You speak as though it has a mind of its own."

"It practically does," Merlin said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm... different, I suppose."

Arthur waited. After a moment, Merlin seemed to realize that he wouldn't get away with leaving it at that and he continued.

"Most people study and learn magic, right? They choose to use it, they choose to be sorcerers. Well, I didn't."

Arthur was completely bemused. "I don't understand."

Merlin sighed and turned his head to face the prince. "I was born with magic, Arthur." Arthur felt his mouth open in surprise, but Merlin continued. "I had magic as a child, and it was instinctual, like walking. I would use it without even realizing what I was doing, catching falling objects in midair and moving things without touching them. It wasn't something I could suppress or be overly conscious of; it just sort of happened."

Arthur didn't know what to say. "How...?"

"I don't know," Merlin said, understanding his unarticulated question. "Other people are born with natural magical abilities, but no one has ever come close to the power I have. I don't know what I am or why I was born like this. I used to think I was a monster."

If possible, Arthur was even more surprised, and didn't know how to respond to that last comment. He tried to imagine Merlin as a young boy, being born with magic in a land that outlawed it; knowing Merlin, he was probably a sweet, friendly little kid, and being told he was born of something that was evil must have been incredibly disturbing. Arthur wasn't surprised that he had had doubts about himself. It made him angry, since Merlin was probably the nicest, kindest person he knew.

Merlin had fallen silent and Arthur didn't have anything to say, so they just sat there, both in their own thoughts.

Suddenly Merlin blurted out, "Well?"

Arthur was taken aback by his abrupt manner. "Well what?"

Merlin looked at him with a slightly worried expression. "Well... what do you think?"

Arthur frowned. "Well, I'm rather surprised, obviously. I'm not sure it ever so much as crossed my mind that you might be a sorcerer. So... yeah, I'm surprised."

Merlin still looked anxious. "What, is that all?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What were you expecting, for me to arrest you?"

"Maybe," Merlin replied seriously.

Arthur stared at him. "You really thought I would take this that badly?"

"You're not angry?"

Arthur just shook his head. "Not particularly, no. At least not yet. I'm not sure if it's just a delayed reaction, but at the moment I'm alright. Like I said, I've been changing my mind about magic."

"You're not even angry about the lying?"

"You mean the fact that you've lied to my face for years?" Arthur said dryly. "Yes, I suppose I am rather upset about that, but I understand some of it. I haven't exactly been very pro-magic in the past, and I can understand how _any _sorcerer, good or evil, would want to keep their skills a secret. And after all, by now I was already quite aware that you weren't being very honest with me," Arthur reminded him cuttingly, "it's not exactly new information. I've already somewhat come to terms with that."

Merlin flinched a bit at that last remark, though he still didn't look satisfied. "But still-"

"Look," Arthur interjected before he could continue, "do you _want _me to be angry? Are you _trying _to have me arrest you?"

Merlin shut his mouth immediately, before quietly replying, "No."

"Then stop arguing," Arthur said tiredly. "I'm still trying to mull over everything."

Merlin went back to staring at his lap while Arthur reflected on everything that had been thrown at him, still trying to fit some of the last pieces into the puzzle. Everything about Merlin seemed to make sense... mostly.

"Why the hell did you come to Camelot if you have uncontrollable magic?"

Merlin shrugged. "I was just a farm boy in Ealdor with no real prospects and no use. With the amount of power I had, my mother felt I was meant for bigger and better things, but it was dangerous for me to just wander the kingdoms with my magic. I told you, it's practically instinctual, I can't just stop using it altogether and I couldn't always contain it. I traveled here so I could stay with Gaius, and he was supposed to help me. I came to Camelot to learn to control my magic and find a use for it, and... well... I did, I suppose."

"And what might that be?"

Merlin sighed. "To protect you, unfortunately."

Arthur started to make a sound of incredulity when he stopped, suddenly remembering something Merlin had said, back when his father had gone insane and the castle was under attack. Hadn't Merlin mentioned something about how he was protecting Arthur, just like he always had? Arthur had laughed at the time, but was it really true?

"You protect me. With magic." Arthur still couldn't manage to keep that twinge of skepticism out of his voice.

"Well, yeah," Merlin replied, and Arthur almost thought he heard a note of pride in the boy's voice. "Pretty much. I've saved your stupid royal arse more times than I can count."

"And what exactly is it that I need saving from?" Arthur asked, slightly annoyed. He was a knight, a prince; surely he didn't need that much saving, it wasn't as if he were a damsel in distress.

Merlin seemed to think for a minute. "Well, there's the usual, you know, assassins, bandits, mercenaries, sorcerers... The magical beasts that you always insist on fighting... A few armies..."

Arthur's brow furrowed. "You mean to say you've defeated all of those? All in the name of protecting me and all without recognition?"

"It's not credit I'm after," Merlin said soberly. "I'm just protecting my friends and my home in any way I can. And I usually seem to be the only one with the power to stop our enemies or troubles, so it ends up being my responsibility."

"So you... use it often? Your magic?"

Merlin snorted. "Of course I use my magic. How do you think I finish the ridiculous amount of chores you give me every day?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"I mean," Merlin said, paling slightly, "I might occasionally use it. Now and then. When there's dire need, lives at stake, that sort of thing."

Arthur's eyebrows rose slightly further.

"It's not my fault," Merlin blurted after a second, "I told you I can't always help it. And you really do give me a ridiculous amount of chores, I mean I have to do your laundry and muck your stables and polish your armor and clean your room, while also helping Gaius and trying to save the kingdom from falling every other day. It's not my fault," he repeated feebly, his rant dying out rather suddenly.

Arthur just snorted. "Slacker."

Merlin made a noise of indignation, and Arthur felt the corners of his lips tugging upward. It felt as though the tension between them had partially eased and being in each other's presence was fairly comfortable again.

Unfortunately, Arthur noted, the sun was getting rather high by now and the sounds of the town were becoming louder. It was getting late, and Arthur had his duties as acting regent to attend to. "Well, I have to go. I've got a castle to run and matters to take care of," he announced, standing up and brushing off his pants.

"Yes, you do," Merlin acknowledged. "But... you're sure you're not going to... do anything?"

Arthur sighed. "For the last time, Merlin, I'm not going to arrest you. Just... give me time to think things over, alright? I need to sort everything out in my head, and we can talk more later. For now, just forget about it."

Merlin nodded solemnly but didn't get up. Arthur made his way back to the door and stepped across the threshold. He glanced back once, only to find Merlin still sitting in the exact same position; he suspected that the servant must need some private time to think as well. It was strange, to look at the familiar figure and try to view him as a powerful sorcerer; it just didn't seem to fit in his mind, and instead of a terrifying magical being, all Arthur could see was the young, lanky boy with the goofy smile who he called his friend. Shaking his head slightly in wonder, he turned and began down the long staircase, leaving the door behind him slightly open.

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**A/N: Ta-da! Are you satisfied for the moment? Good. Yes, we've finally gotten to the reveal, and I'd say that was the climax of the story. At the moment, I'm thinking only one more chapter to wrap things up, might be more of an epilogue... we'll see where my inspiration pulls me. **

**As always, please leave your comments, criticisms, thoughts, questions, job applications, marriage requests, anything you want really. And thanks for reading. It's nice to know the Merlin fandom is holding strong even after the show has ended. Speaking of fandoms, I think I should mention that I finally got a tumblr account, and I will have you know that my fears of being eaten alive by that place have come true. My username is switzdandelionstar. Message me and I will check out your blog, maybe even follow if I like what I see (which I probably will). Seriously, guys, I don't bite. Unless you thrust something delicious in my face, in which case I will probably chomp.**

**Thanks, everyone! **

**- SwitzD**


	8. Epilogue

**A/N: This is it, I'm afraid. The end. The last part. No more updates after this. So enjoy the ridiculously short epilogue I've written up for you lovely people.**

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Blind Trust

Epilogue

Arthur didn't see much of Merlin for the rest of that day, nor most of the next; it wasn't until three nights after the big reveal of Merlin's magic that they finally had time to sit together and talk, when Merlin came to deliver his evening meal. And talk they did. After so many days of thinking, Arthur had accumulated quite a large number of questions for his friend, all of which Merlin was only too happy to try and answer. And when he finally left for the night, Arthur went to bed with a peaceful feeling for the first time in a while.

They continued to meet almost every night after that, Arthur listening while Merlin explained his escapades since he came to Camelot. Some nights, Arthur would quietly listen with little comment; other times he would constantly be interjecting with questions and incredulous denials.

"Hang on... My wound from the questing beast was _fatal_?"

"I didn't actually defeat the afanc on my own, did I?"

"You mean you killed nimueh?"

"How could you release the dragon? Don't you realize the damage it did?"

Merlin would patiently answer each one, sometimes with a hint of shame or embarrassment at his actions, and other times with humor or sarcasm present in his voice. They worked their way through all the questions, all the explanations, all the details, and Merlin did his best not to leave anything out while Arthur brought up every point he could possibly have a problem with.

It took nearly a week for Arthur to get up the courage to ask Merlin for a display of magic.

Merlin smiled hesitantly at this request before whispering a foreign word into his cupped hands. When he opened them, a small blue and white flower lay in his palm, looking exotic but fresh. Arthur was too amazed to call Merlin a girl for conjuring a flower, and instead just admired the thing, noticing the intricate designs and the fragile leaves.

Eventually, having heard so many incredible and unbelievable accounts from Merlin of magical foes and heroes, it was an awestruck Arthur who sat in amazement, taking in the young, unassuming man before him and trying to picture him commanding a dragon or defeating a powerful sorcerer.

"About what you said before," Arthur told him, "I do think you're brave. You're not weak or useless. Lancelot was right, back when he said you deserve to be knighted. You _are _the bravest of us all."

This statement caused Merlin to break into a wide, albeit hesitant, grin. Ears slightly pink, he shrugged, repeating that he didn't do it for credit or honor, but Arthur could tell it meant a lot to him.

Merlin wasn't the only one made incredibly happy by Arthur's knowledge and acceptance of magic; Lancelot had approached Arthur the other day to thank him and to apologize for helping keep it a secret, and Arthur could have sworn he heard Gaius whistling the other day as he did his rounds. Even Gwaine was cheerier than usual, if that was possible, just because of everyone else's good moods. It was amazing how even in the wake of the tragedy which had occurred, they all managed to be in such high spirits.

It was after Arthur started getting used to the idea of Merlin being a powerful sorcerer that he began to think of the future. After all, he couldn't very well uphold the laws against magic when he was king, not after he had learned of its potential for good. And while he was not yet on the throne, his father was still ill and he was beginning to think that Merlin had been right; they were nearing a time when Arthur might have to step up and take his father's place permanently. And when that time came, he would find a way to make the kingdom welcome magic again, as long as it was good. He knew he would probably face strong opposition and controversy, and it would not be an easy task. But he knew that he could count on Merlin to help, and that Merlin would follow him anywhere no matter what he did; he would always have his friend by his side, helping him make the right decisions and producing spontaneous wisdom. He finally knew without a doubt that he could always trust him, whatever the situation, and also that the trust would finally be reciprocated.

But in the meantime, there was no way in hell that he was letting Merlin do his chores by magic.

END

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**A/N: Like I said... ridiculously short. But I hope you liked it, and I didn't really want to continue the story, just wrap it up. This is it! After about 8 months, it's finally finished. I'm planning on going back in the next few days and tweaking a few little things from previous chapters, but otherwise it's complete, so I'll take this opportunity to send you all a massive thank you. I know I haven't replied to a single review in all that time which is rather unforgivable, especially since I'm about to hit 150 (omg), but I want you all to know that every single one was read and accounted for, and they all meant so much to me while I struggled through this. Thank you all so much for making my first fic such a massive success and for boosting my self confidence off the charts. You guys are honestly the best.**

**I think I might have to take a small break from FanFiction, but I have a feeling I will be back soon. I have some ideas for other stories, so I'll try some of those out sometime. Until then, my friends!**

**- SwitzD (who loves you all to bits)**


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